Becoming a Tea-Bag Dad
Both of my daughters
have married and moved on
both now have lives
and homes of their own
both their “old” bedrooms
now empty of them
their laughter
and music
still harbour their presence
their energy and love
and remain safe haven
for some of their “stuff”
there was a time
when their busy hubbub
and end-of-world dramas
enlivened our home
kisses and hugs
were a daily affair
their laughter and giggles
permeated the air
a time
just moments ago it seems
when I was all knowing
and could do everything
a time when they’d yell
“Dad
come quick
there’s a bug in my room!!!”
I was part of decisions
there at events
my hand always ready
to help and be held
it was me
on whose shoulders they rode
as safe as can be
holding tight to my ears
my peanut-butter and jams
“Triangles not squares
and cut off the crusts”
were the best in the land
my sanction was sought
for parties and sleep-overs
make-up and boys
and those have-to-have pierced ears
I was expected to unravel
the mystery and magic
of their curious and questing
open-eyed “Whys?”
it was me whom they coquettishly
sashayed around
beguilingly telling me
“Mom says it looks fine”
magical times
for me and for them
seemingly then
never to end
but
in the blink of an eye
there is now someone else
doing these things
I knew it was coming
but it’s nevertheless incredibly hard
to let go of their hands
to wish them safe journey and bid them farewell
I’m doing my best
with this inevitable change
it is after all where I want them to be
and what I want them to have
and must hasten to assure you
that this is not a bottom lip pout
a woe is me rant
a why should it be, it’s really not fair
but, when assessing my position
it is abundantly clear
that I have become
a tea-bag Dad
the kettle has boiled
the cup has been filled
the tea has been steeped
and is ready to drink
the tea-bag however
having dutifully performed
and essential to the process
of making the tea
no longer needed
is removed from the cup
placed on a saucer
and put to one side
that trusty old tea-bag
that made it all possible
lies discarded and forgotten
and off to one side
so, if you are a Dad and your “babies” are grown
and someone else is removing that bug
is holding their hand, are those shoulders to ride on
and is telling them why
it’s okay to feel sad
and a little bit miffed
somewhat forgotten
and off to one side
because, like me, you will know
in your heart and your soul
that you poured every last drop
into being their Dad.
Copyright © Rory Galbraith | Year Posted 2023
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